


All I Want

by commandershakarian



Series: Dragon Age one shots [28]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Fluff, M/M, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 14:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7980007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandershakarian/pseuds/commandershakarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor, Hayalet Trevelyan, prepares for the next chapter in his life after the defeat of Corypheus. One that he prays will include the love of his life, the former red templar, Raleigh Samson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Want

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheRealJesseMcCree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealJesseMcCree/gifts).



> My newest commission written for the patient and kind GoldStarKeptin of their Inquisitor, Hayalet Trevelyan, and his love, Raleigh Samson. Thank you so much for commissioning me! It was a pleasure to work with you and Samson is and always will be one of my favorite characters.

Skyhold was in celebration for the first time in months. Corypheus’ defeat had been hard won and in Hayalet Trevelyan’s opinion, a party was long overdo even if he didn’t enjoy the attention. The people of the Inquisition,  _ his people _ , had needed the party. Despite the anxiety he felt meeting those who considered him a hero, he had enjoyed himself.

It helped that many of his friends were in attendance.

Laughter drew his gaze to the front of the hall. Sera was standing atop a table, her bow in hand. Raising an eyebrow curiously, Hayalet watched as she shot an arrow directly into the apple sitting on a plate across the room. The crowd that had formed around her cheered at the sight and she took a moment to bow, a smirk proudly on her face. The Inquisitor chuckled to himself, happy that his friends were enjoying themselves. They deserved it. Everyone had gone through quite a lot over the last year and this party was as much for them as for him.

Hayalet wanted to celebrate with them, truly he did, but the fear of being in the center of that crowd was enough to keep him away. While Sera loved the attention that was showered upon her, Hayalet would have felt terror and uncertainty. It would just be better to avoid it all to begin with.

Sighing contently, the necromancer walked to the door where a staircase waited, a staircase that would lead to his quarters, to a quiet freedom. A freedom that he so desperately needed. When his hand touched the brass doorknob, a deep voice called to him. 

“There you are, love. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” 

The voice was welcoming. It brought a sense of peace, of hope, of happiness to Hayalet’s mind. It was a peace that he’d never felt before. A smile spread across his face and he hesitated for just a moment, excitement filling him at the close presence of the love of his life. No one had ever made him feel the way Raleigh Samson did. He honestly didn’t understand how he’d lived without the former templar.

Hayalet’s breath hitched in his throat as he turned. Samson’s eyes had long returned to the beautiful blue they’d once been. Dagna had done much to help Samson’s lyrium addiction. It would still be some time before all of the effects of the red lyrium would be reversed, dissipated and even then, perhaps never completely. However, Hayalet was grateful for what the dwarven woman had accomplished and would in the future. She had lengthened Samson’s life. She had given the man back his free will. She had given them both some hope for the future.

The Inquisitor would be forever in her debt.

“Where did you plan on running off to?” Samson asked, raising a single eyebrow curiously. “Planned on spending the night alone without even saying goodbye?”

Hayalet grinned, unable to do anything else when faced with this man. “Goodbye? I didn’t realize that this was the end.”

“Isn’t it?” Samson asked, his light-colored eyes glancing at the scene of the party. “After this is over, most of these people will go back to their lives. The very lives they had before the Inquisition.” He refused to glance at Hayalet again, but the mage could see the worry and uncertainty in his gaze. “What am I to do now that this is over?”

“Hmm.” Hayalet hummed, reaching for Samson’s hand before taking it between his own. The skin of his knuckles were red and worn, the skin healing from the abuse they’d taken over the years. Hay ran a finger softly over each knuckle in turn before pressing a kiss to Samson’s palm. “If it’s not too much trouble, you could always stay.”

Surprise registered upon his face for a fleeting moment before the templar covered it with the mask he so easily composed on a moment’s whim. “Stay here? With the Inquisition?”

“No.” Hayalet shook his head, his white hair falling into his eyes. He didn’t even bother to brush it out of the way when he glanced back up. He was serious as he spoke so that Samson would take his words to heart. “With me.”

Samson smirked, the grin spreading across his face easily as if those words were everything he’d been wishing to hear. The former templar lifted his free hand to touch Hay’s face gently, tracing the scars that were there with the utmost care. “You  _ want _ me to stay?”

The mage nodded. “It is all I want.”

Samson’s fingers loosened the leather strap that bound Hayalet’s hair, allowing the snowy locks to fall against his shoulders. He carded his fingers through the strands, watching the Inquisitor’s pale skin turned crimson. Samson took a step closer, the space between the two men almost nonexistent.

Feeling nervous and aroused by Samson’s presence all at once, Hayalet cleared his throat. His flustered reaction was all that Samson had hoped it’d be. “What is it that  _ you  _ want, Raleigh?”

A growl erupted low in Samson’s throat at the question. “I want  _ you _ .”

Feeling brave for the first time in a long while, Hay lifted his head, fire in his eyes as he stared into the azure depths of Samson’s gaze. He hadn’t been given many opportunities in his short life, but the Maker had brought them together. The Maker had answered his prayers. Samson had been all that he’d needed without even knowing.

The kiss began slowly. Samson had bent down and pressed his lips against Hayalet’s, tender and loving. His hands glided down the Inquisitor’s arms before resting firmly on his waist. His fingers dug into the tunic as if it was the only way he’d be able to control himself. Hayalet’s blood heated at their proximity to one another. If he reached back, he would be able to open the door. Then they could disappear into the darkness of the staircase and then eventually to his quarters…

The thought excited more than he’d expected. Hayalet, spurred on by Samson’s relentless kisses, ran a hand along the man’s waistband, delighted when the templar growled again. 

“Ugh, my eyes!! My poor eyes!” 

Hayalet froze, his lips still pressed against Samson’s. Realizing what he was doing, in public no less, the Inquisitor quickly moved out of his lover’s embrace, his back colliding with the closed door that stood behind him. Terrified, and with wide eyes, Hayalet glanced towards where the party still raged, only to see his dear friend, Dorian Pavus, standing there, arms crossed against his chest and a smirk curling his lips.

The Inquisitor blushed fifty shades of red. He raised his hands to cover his face as if it would stop his friend from witnessing his embarrassment. It took him a few moments but he noticed that Varric Tethras stood beside Dorian. His embarrassment increased one hundred fold. 

“Can you two  _ please _ get a room?” The dwarf asked, grinning as well. He seemed to be enjoying this as much as Dorian. “Or at the very least, let me take notes for the book?”

Hayalet sputtered, the words he was preparing to say dying on his tongue.  _ A book? What kind of game was Varric playing now? _

Samson shook his head, chuckling. “We’ll pass, Tethras. Besides, my love and I have other things to attend to that do not need an audience.”

Varric made a face somewhere between disgusted and intrigued. “We won’t keep you.”

Dorian nodded in agreement, although he was still grinning. “Be on your way, friends. And do remember to be gentle with the Inquisitor, Samson. We need him in one piece by the morning.”

Hayalet still couldn’t utter a word. Samson, taking his lover by the hand, led the way to the stairs. If it wasn’t for him, the mage would still be standing in front of his friends, dumbstruck. Shaking the terror from him, he squeezed Samson’s hand. The man glanced back as they climbed the stairs, a question upon his face.

“I love you.” Hayalet whispered. It was the only thing that would come out of his mouth.

Samson paused, his foot on the next step. He leaned down to press a kiss to Hay’s hand, all the while smiling like a fool. “And I love you, dove.”


End file.
